Harry Potter and the Worst Birthday Ever
by Elsyra
Summary: Everyone seems to have forgotten Harry's 19th birthday! Things are not working out well, so all Harry wants to do is go home and sleep. But that might not be what Lady fate has in store for him. Written for the birthdays of J.K. and Harry themselves! EWE.


Happy birthday, Harry Potter! J.K. Rowling inspires me so much and I want to thank her for creating a series of books that really puts the joy in reading and keeps it in children's hearts. I actually finished this at 12:01 AM in honour of Harry's birthday. Yeah, I know I'm a nerd, but Harry Potter is something that means a lot to me.

Without further ado, here is a little fic I created in honour of just Harry. R&R is greatly appreciated.

Rated T for a few cuss words and references, mostly suitable for older kids.

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><p>Harry sighed, looking down at his muggle watch yet again: 9:02. He wanted nothing more than to get off the bloody subway train, run to his house, and get inside as quickly as possible to collapse on the bed. All day long, he had been up and about on an auror mission. By the time he and his team caught the bastard, <em>ruining<em> his favourite shirt in the process, Harry was too bleary-eyed from exhaustion to floo or apparate home. This obnoxiously loud subway car, full of late-working city-goers, was definitely not the best place for a nap.

"You look like crap," Harry could just picture his co-worker, Draco Malfoy teasing. Lucky for Malfoy, he worked a day job in the Unspeakables, not having to suffer the long hours, stress, and daily death threats that caused Harry's relationship with Ginny to dissolve almost instantly once he was acclimated to the job. _She_ had decided that joining the Hollyhead Harpies on this season's quidditch tour was the perfect opportunity to say fair well and bon voyage to Harry. It didn't bother Harry as much as he thought it should because he noticed his attraction to her staring to fade. Ginny had always felt more like a sister to him, anyway.

No, Harry Potter was not lamenting the loss of Ginny Weasley the morning of July 31st, two years after his defeat of Lord Voldemort. Instead, he felt miserable because he had no one to share his birthday with. The last time he had even kissed anybody was at a masquerade staff party for the Ministry, but he hadn't even found out the bloke's name. And it seemed as though everyone he loved, "family"-wise, was busy; Molly and Arthur were in the middle of repairs on the Burrow, all the Weasleys had their own lives and careers, including Percy and George, who had to deal with their fiancés' wedding plans. Ron and Hermione had gone on vacation because Ron felt stressed out about work, leaving Harry to be the only leader on their auror team, which they usually co-oporated. Even Harry's team had forgotten his birthday, in the midst of hunting down a dangerous ex-death-eater. He knew they were busy, but honestly – not _one _happy birthday all day!

Harry Potter had not had a very good start to his birthday at all.

As soon as his train stopped, Harry rubbed the sleep from his eyes and hurried off the train as fast as he could into cold night air, feeling drops of water pelting down on him. _Great, now it's raining, _Harry thought, _I'll just get my umbrella out and… _Harry looked down to find he couldn't retrieve his umbrella—because he had no bag to get it out of! He turned around to see the last of the train, rolling down the tunnel, out of view. "Ugh!" came the brunette's exasperated sigh. He walked home in the rain, hoping he wouldn't get run over by muggle cars. He sighed, knowing how Draco would have laughed at him now.

Although Draco was on what Harry called "friendly" terms with him, he couldn't shake the feeling of something-off-in all the looks Draco gave him. As if Draco would study him, as if the obsession Harry had with Draco in their sixth year was now reversed. Whenever they hugged, Harry couldn't help himself from being a little over-enthusiastic, wondering if he could ever get a response from Draco. Despite the extra glances and stares, Harry was disappointed to see that Draco kept a neutral face during the affectionate display.

Suddenly, Harry felt a burst of water hit him from the back. He swore to Merlin, whoever was in the car that splashed them would wake up with puss-emitting boils in the morning. "Gods, this is the absolute worst birthday ever!" he grumbled to himself, wringing out his wet cloak as he stepped up to his house door.

As soon as Harry uttered, "lumos," the room burst into life.

"SURPRISE!"

Everyone Harry knew and loved had crowded around in the bottom floor of his house, quidditch-themed decorations adorning the walls, courtesy of Mrs. Weasley. He felt himself blush, not knowing what to say as he was wrapped in a giant group hug. For the next half-hour, Harry found himself being congratulated by every witch and wizard in the room. Finally, when he got the chance, he wandered over to Ron and Hermione, who thankfully weren't snogging.

"Harry, happy birthday!" Ron practically screamed, he was so hyper from eating an excess of candy. "You didn't really think we would forget, did you?"

"Come on, give him some space." Hermione admonished her fiancé playfully. "It's so wonderful to see you, Harry. You can have some cake, now, before we give you your presents."

"R-right."

"Oh, it was so nice of Draco to think of this," Luna said in a dreamy voice. "It reminds me of when Neville took me out on a surprise date and found a snorcack for me to draw – a real, live one, too!"

Harry chuckled and gave Luna a hug before processing what she had said. "Wait, _Draco_ planned this whole thing?"

"Oh, yes," Luna's sing-song voice declared. "We were going to just have a normal party for you, but he thought it would be nice to celebrate and give you some time off of work. Mm," she said, taking a bite of homemade dirigible plum cupcake, "he said you're not allowed to work the whole week."

"_What!_ I can't just leave work. I mean, I have to—"

"You're _not _working this week," dawled Draco in his usual lazy fashion. He folded his arms and gave Harry a stern look. "You're a mess, Harry, and you're going to drive yourself mad. So I suppose I've taken it upon myself to make sure you don't do anything that might cause you to need a St. Mungo's check-up."

Harry stared at Draco for a moment. "I'm not going to go mad," he mumbled, too tired to argue.

"Perhaps not, but you might still die of exhaustion. It's bed time."

"Oookaaay," Harry yawned, leaning his head against Draco's shoulder as he was guided upstairs. Draco summoned Harry's pajamas and helped him out of his soaked cloak and overcoat. Harry put undressed and put on his night clothes in the bathroom. When he came back into his room, he expected Draco to be gone, but instead, the blonde was laying on Harry's bed, staring at him.

"Well? What are you waiting for?"

_I must be dreaming_. Harry blinked his heavy eyelids a few times. "Whaah? I thought you said-it was time for bed…"

"It _is _time for bed. Now, come 'ere."

"Well, _someone's _a bit forward. I'd like to have been asked out on a proper date, with time to be wooed before I got shagged, if this were real."

"It's real, I will ask you on a date, and I'm not shagging you tonight because you're dead on your feet. Besides, there's plenty of time for that in the morning."

"Oh, yeah, dream Draco? And who says I want to shag you?" Harry yawned again, crawling underneath the covers and snuggling close to the Slytherin.

Draco grinned, caressing Harry's face. "Well, you did seem quite keen at the ministry party, and if how you acted while we were snogging there is anything to go by, I'd say I have a fair chance with you."

If he had any energy left in him, Harry would have blushed. Instead, he came out with very coherent phrases such as "nngh, uhh, er, ughmm…"

"Goodnight, Harry," Draco whispered, pressing a kiss to Harry's temple.

"'Nngh, 'night, Draco."

"I love you."

Before Harry lost consciousness, he gently squeezed Draco's hand.


End file.
